


someone who sees the same world as you

by dancer4813



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: CritRole RS Week, Critical Role Relationship Week, Day 1, Gen, Two women against the rest of the world, Vox Machina campaign, just for a moment, mighty nein campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer4813/pseuds/dancer4813
Summary: “You remind me of my husband, you know,” Zahra murmured, and she looked to Yasha, turning her head with a soft smile on her lips. Yasha felt her cheeks flush, caught staring as she was, but Zahra didn’t seem to mind.“Do I?”“Indeed."





	someone who sees the same world as you

Yasha was drinking alone. And that in itself wasn’t abnormal – she often slipped away from the group to have some time to herself – but she found herself missing their idle chatter, missing the quiet presence of Caleb at her side, too engrossed in a book to take notice of what was around him. She missed Frumpkin’s paws on her leg and his fur beneath her fingers, and she missed the white noise buzz of Jester’s voice when she was talking about the Traveler, or her mother, or whatever else they encountered on the road. 

Molly had once said, when it was just the two of them and the circus and no responsibilities, that the Stormlord was stealing her away. She was, in the tiefling’s words, “too good to leave alone”. 

“You’re obviously doing a fantastic job of whatever he needed you to do,” Molly had said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t keep asking you to leave”. 

She’d responded with a quiet glare, as she often did. He’d dropped the matter and they’d continued with their dinner. But she’d never forgotten his words.

“Stealing me away,” Yasha murmured to herself, running a pale finger along the rim of her mug. The dark, brooding liquid at the bottom was begging for her to finish it, but her stomach rolled at the thought and she took a deep breath, trying to gather herself. 

She wished there was even a light drizzle on the roof of the inn above her, but the air outside the building was silent, still, and so she had to settle for trying to lose herself in the inane chatter in the bar around her. Her mind was full, teaming with too many thoughts, and she wanted to drown herself in drink, but didn’t want to lose herself in the process. Why would she throw away something she’d worked so long to find?

Yasha’s fingers dug into the side of the tankard, and even though she’d purposefully chosen a seat where she could see the rest of the bar, near a window, she felt enclosed, claustrophobic. Their last job had ended up with her and Nott getting arrested, and while it hadn’t been the worst prison she’d been in, it had brought up memories she’d rather not have had to relive. She hadn’t had time to come to terms with it on her own before the Storm had swept her away, and here she was half-drinking her sorrows away, waiting for morning to come so she could find who she needed to find and be on her way. 

A rustle in front of her drew Yasha’s eyes to the darkly-cloaked figure who was walking toward her table, and she was instantly on edge, tensing up as the feminine figure walked closer. 

“I apologize if I startled you,” said a lightly accented voice, and as the figure stepped forward into the light of one of the torches behind Yasha it threw deep red skin into relief, slivery eyes blinking from behind the hood. “It looked like you might want some company, though I can leave if you’d rather not.”

It was strange, but there was something about her that made Yasha pause and refrain from sending the full strength of a glare at her. Perhaps it was her tiefling nature, or the way she stopped several feet from the table, waiting for Yasha to invite her over, but Yasha didn’t feel threatened by this woman, though the staff at her side, set with gently pulsing white orbs spoke to the stranger’s power as a spellcaster. 

“I would not mind some company,” she found herself saying, and the tiefling woman bowed her head in a nod, walking the rest of the way to Yasha’s table and sitting across from her. A tankard was set down on the table, and the tiefling woman settled into a seat, glancing around as if judging the rest of the patrons before slipping her hood back to reveal horns that arced back over her head, unlike Jester’s or Molly’s that curved back around behind their ears, and thick white hair that fell down her back. 

“My name’s Zahra,” Zahra introduced, holding out her hand and smiling with her lips closed, though the way her eyes lit up made up for it. 

Yasha thought for a moment about Jester and Nott – how they’d take any opportunity to introduce themselves under different names – before holding out her own hand, shaking Zahra’s. There was something trustworthy about her. “Yasha.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Yasha,” Zahra said, lifting her tankard in a toast of sorts. “You don’t find many with names at our end of the Common alphabet.”

“I suppose not,” Yasha agreed, lifting her own mug a couple inches and taking a sip. It was strange, but someone else being there helped her feel less closed in. It was a mildly uncomfortable realization, and she mulled over it for a moment, taking another drink, until Zahra broke the silence. 

“So, what are you doing this far east in the Empire?” she queried, leaning to one side of her chair so she, too, could look out at the rest of the bar. “Tensions are high in these times of war.”

Yasha looked out the window to the south, where she could imagine she could see Xhorhas beyond the mountains. “Work,” she answered simply. “I have a debt that must be filled. Then I will be on my way.”

Zahra hummed at the information, eyeing Yasha for a moment before returning her gaze to the bar. 

“What is your business in these parts?” Yasha asked, wincing internally as her question came out more confrontational than she had intended. “Work as well?”

“Work would be more pleasurable, to be honest,” Zahra answered, shaking her head. “No, I’m here on family business. Unpleasant, but it needs to be dealt with, and sooner rather than later.”

“I can understand that,” Yasha agreed, trying to imagine what “family business” would look like for herself. 

She decided she didn’t want to think about it.

The two of them sat there in silence for a couple long minutes, Yasha feeling herself relax slightly at the familiar feeling of a silent presence at her side. Once upon a time it had been Molly, more recently it had been Caleb, but now it was Zahra, eyes and hair like the moon and wrinkles around her forehead and eyes from years of both smiling and frowning. And yet there was a serenity about her presence that spoke of patience and experience beyond anything Yasha had ever experienced. 

“You remind me of my husband, you know,” Zahra murmured, and she looked to Yasha, turning her head with a soft smile on her lips. Yasha felt her cheeks flush, caught staring as she was, but Zahra didn’t seem to mind.

“Do I?”

“Indeed. You prefer silence to chatter, solitude among friends. But you also can’t take your eyes off me.” Zahra winked, and Yasha felt the heat on her cheeks grow as she ducked her head slightly, taking another drink from her cup. “Oh, don’t worry, darling. I know plenty well how few tieflings there are in the Empire. A little extra looking never hurt anyone.”

“I actually have some friends who are like you,” Yasha said, nodding to Zahra’s horns, fingers laced together to keep them from doing anything stupid. “Just not so…” There were so many things she was thinking of, and her brain felt jam-packed with all of them. “…so red.”

Zahra raised her eyebrows in surprise, but chuckled, and Yasha let out a sigh of relief that her fumbling words weren’t being taken badly. 

“Sounds like they are good company.”

“They are,” Yasha agreed, taking another drink and finding her mug empty. She set it down again on the table. “They are good friends.”

“That’s good to hear – we all need friends in times like these,” Zahra said sagely, rubbing her thumb around the edge of her tankard and staring off at a place over Yasha’s shoulder. 

“Why did you come and sit with me?” 

Zahra looked at her again, cocking her head to one side. “You looked lonely,” she said, lowering her voice to a warm rumble. “And a little trapped. I have experienced both and felt the least I could do was give you some company.” 

Yasha was wary about anyone who could read her with a look, but Zahra hadn’t proven herself to be a threat. 

“You know those feelings?”

“Each on their own, or together,” Zahra said with a nod. “It’s not easy growing up looking like I do.”

Yasha nodded, thinking of her own height and her unnaturally pale skin, which had stayed the same since she was a child, but couldn’t keep her thoughts from wandering to those things that had evolved over time as well. “It was not easy for me growing up, either,” she said simply, taking a deep breath in and letting it out, thinking of the Stormlord’s symbol that she carried with her. 

“Then that’s yet another thing you have in common with my husband,” Zahra murmured, tipping up her own tankard and swallowing the rest in one gulp. “But you’re also the same in that both of you found people to help you through it, yes?”

“Yes,” Yasha hummed, nodding. “My friends.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Zahra said, and her lips broke into the first smile that showed her teeth, pure white as her hair and eyes and stones on her staff. There was a brightness in her that reminded Yasha of Jester, of places besides the Xhorhasian border where troops marched past every day and you knew you were only an day or two’s walk from hearing the sounds of battle. 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” Yasha murmured, pushing her mug to the center of the table. 

“Anytime,” Zahra said, mirroring Yasha’s movements. “I’ll be heading out early tomorrow, so I doubt I’ll see you for breakfast, but best of luck with your debt.”

“Best of luck with your family,” Yasha echoed, and the two of them stood together, shaking hands before moving their separate ways. 

Four days later, after too much fighting and just barely pushing herself to follow through on her mission, Yasha was headed back to the Mighty Nein, following her instinct over any sort of sense of direction. So tired she was, so ready to get away from the battlefields and collapse at the nearest sign of shelter, that she nearly missed the vibrant red blooms on the ground until she’d nearly stepped on them. 

Something in the delicate circle of petals made her pause, and Yasha found herself bending down, plucking a couple of the blooms to examine the spindles of black in their centers and the gentle way that they had opened despite the lack of sun in this part of the valley. 

They were beautiful, and still, and vibrant among a desolate landscape, and Yasha took a moment to compose herself, not letting tears fall as she opened her book and slipped the flowers in-between two pages that had pictures sketched of cutlery in different positions around a plate. The blooms reminded her of Zahra, of her brightness and the strength of her presence, and Yasha took another moment of silence to ask the Stormlord to grant the woman strength on her own journey, in whatever form that might be. 

The way back to the Empire was still long, and the road to her salvation was even longer, but at least she wasn’t alone in walking her path. 

She pressed on, feeling as if the weight of the flowers in her notebook was carrying her along.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for Critical Role Relationship Week and I'm actually posting it on time! It's a midsummer miracle!
> 
> I took a few liberties with Yasha and Zahra's backstories, but purposefully left them vague around what we do know, because I can't help wanting to stick to canon for those sorts of things. It was a joy to get to write for these two. The flower moment at the end sort of came out of nowhere, but I felt that poppies were a good symbol for both Zahra and Yasha - remembrance for the lives they've lived, even as they find the strength to face each new day. 
> 
> Come back tomorrow, where I'll be writing for Vax & Fjord, or join me on tumblr at [dancerwrites](https://dancerwrites.tumblr.com/), where I'll also be posting all of these fics. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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